Falling For You
by TheSummerNightingale
Summary: Falling seems to be a regular occurrence in the love story of Quidditch players Lorcan Scamander and Lucy Weasley. It's only a matter of time until they're falling for each other.


**Hey everyone! So I really liked writing this piece, and I'm surprisingly pleased with the result :) This was written for QFLC Round 13 for the Tornados, Keeper!  
**

**Also written for Hogwarts School of W&amp;W:** _Arithmancy, Assignment 6 _

**Word Count without A/N: 3,222**

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"You reckon he's dead?"

"Of course he's not, that was only about forty feet."

"Well for normal people, forty feet is quite a long way to fall from a broomstick."

"Do you think we ought to get his brother?"

"Shut up - I think he's waking up."

It was hard for Lorcan Scamander to believe that just five minutes ago, he'd been spurting off complaints about the cold weather and wet grass. Now, the cool dewdrops pressed into his back never felt so inviting against his aching, aching limbs. The gentle morning breeze urged him to sit up and sit up he did attempt to do.

"You alright, Scamander?" asked the captain, Lily Potter.

"Yeah," he croaked out, and extended an arm, feeling the ground beside him for his broomstick.

"Here." Someone gently put the handle of his broom into his outstretched hands, and he breathed a sigh of thanks as he grasped it in his fist.

"Any broken bones? Pulled muscles?" Lily Potter rattled off a few more symptoms. As a Quidditch player from her second year, she'd probably had a lot of experience with people falling from their broomstick from forty feet in the air.

Lorcan wiggled a bit, wincing at the movement in his back. "I - I think I'm alright. Just a few bruises here and there."

"Yes, I suspected. I managed to shoot a Cushioning Charm, but you were going so fast, I wasn't sure if I made it. Good thing I did. Do you need to go to Madam Pomfrey?"

He immediately shook his head. That would be most embarrassing, even more so than falling off his broomstick while trying to catch the Quaffle for his tryout as Keeper. "May I just sit out for a moment?"

Lily nodded, or at least Lorcan assumed she did. He couldn't lift his head up without searing pain at his neck dotting his vision.

"Now that we've established he's okay, let's continue on with the tryouts. Wood, you're up next," he heard Lily Potter say somewhere far above him.

Shuffling footsteps faded with the swoosh of broomsticks flying into the air. Lorcan shut his eyes. He was never going to become Keeper now.

"Hey."

Lorcan cracked a blue eye open. He didn't see anyone.

"Lorcan Scamander, right?"

He opened both eyes, not that it did him much good. He still couldn't lift his head.

"I'm Lucy."

Lucy Weasley, he thought. He knew her. Everyone knew her. She was the only Weasley child other than Rose Weasley to be sorted into a house other than Gryffindor.

"Hi," he said, unsure what else there was to say. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see her brown shoes. They were very pointy at the tip, and he briefly wondered how much it would hurt if she kicked him.

"Hi," she said impatiently, as if she didn't believe in greetings. "Anyway, I'm just here because I thought you might like some company. And I'm here at the tryouts to cheer my sister on, if you're wondering." She promptly sat by him, and the window view of her shoes was replaced by her left leg and freckled little hand.

Lorcan managed to lift his head a bit so he could see her face. She was a fourth year, one year older than him. Her Ravenclaw tie stood out against her curly red hair, and she was rather pretty. He blushed when she turned to him.

"So you were trying out for Keeper?"

Lorcan nodded, then blushed even harder. "Well, I don't think I'm going to make it," he mumbled.

Lucy shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe not Keeper, but I wouldn't rule you out completely. You're a pretty fast flier. Maybe they'll put you as Seeker."

Lorcan's spirits soared. Lucy Weasley wasn't only known for her deviation from Weasley tradition; she was also well known for her excellent flying as a Chaser. If she thought he was good enough to be a Seeker… He started to smile before he realized a flaw in her reasoning. The spark of hope fluttering in his chest doused out. "They've already got one," he said miserably.

The redhead waved her hand in the air. "No, they haven't. Lily told Molly who told me that they want a new one. You Gryffindors haven't had anyone above a remotely good Seeker since Uncle Harry."

"Oh," said Lorcan, hopeful again. He'd wanted to try out on the team last year, but had dropped out at the last moment. Most of the people trying out had been sixth or seventh years, and he hadn't wanted to try his luck.

He fingered his broomstick, and looked up to see Lucy Weasley staring at him as if he had something she wanted. He pulled his treasure closer to his chest. "What?" Lorcan asked nervously.

If his brother were here, Lorcan would have attempted to make a witty comment. But he always felt more vulnerable without his twin - Lysander, the one who was so loud, Youder-Snappers didn't dare appear before him, according to their mother and father - and as it was, his question came out as a stutter.

She blinked, her large blue eyes innocent as she said evenly, "My dad told me about you and your brother. And my uncle told me about your mum. He said that he and my other uncles and aunts went to school with her."

"Oh, yes," said Lorcan, silently admonishing himself for even thinking that she had wanted to steal his broom. "They did."

"Uh-huh," she nodded assertively. She suddenly leaned in very closely, and he caught a whiff of cinnamon and apples as she said conspiratorially, "Do Nargles really exist?"

He almost glared at her. It was always Nargles. Nargles. That was what Molly Weasley, Lucy's sister, had asked him last year. That was what Hugo Weasley had asked him at the start of term. That was what James and Albus Potter had asked him when they and their parents had visited the Scamander's over break. It was always Nargles, never any other creature.

He sighed. "I can't see them, but my mum can," said Lorcan. It was a well-practiced answer. He wished she would know to ask about Feather-Horned Potters. He'd seen one of _those_ before.

"Oh," said Lucy, looking slightly disappointed, which was different from the usual reaction that featured apprehensive looks and giggles. "Darn."

"Why?" he asked her, quite suddenly noticing the frown on her small lips. It was kind of cute.

"I wanted to see them," she shrugged. "Ravenclaw thirst for knowledge, and all."

Lorcan had met Percy Weasley, Lucy's father, once, and thought that his version of knowledge might be very different from his daughter's.

The girl in question yawned and stretched out her legs as she stared up at the cluster of Quidditch players in the sky. "Our team is _so_ going to beat yours," she commented.

Lorcan found that he could look up as well, without too much discomfort, and was able to make out that somebody had accidently hit another with a Bludger. That made it the third accident into the tryouts; Lily Potter looked like she was ready to tear her hair out.

He didn't think he was going to make it on the team, but Lorcan felt a rush of defensiveness all the same. He said with pursed lips, "It's the first day. Of course things are going to be hectic."

Lucy made a noncommittal noise. "Ravenclaw tryouts went without a hitch."

He was sure she wasn't trying to sound like she was gloating, but his mother had always said Gryffindors were defensive to the point of having quick tempers, and Lorcan suddenly knew what she was talking about.

"Well, you'll see how orderly our team is when we beat yours in a few weeks."

Lucy turned to him, her mouth opened in surprise. It quickly settled into a delighted smirk that made Lorcan's slip off his face. "Oh, don't you worry," she said levelly, as though thoroughly enjoying his challenge. She swept her hair over her shoulder and gave a laugh. "That won't be happening."

A month later, Lorcan landed on the ground of the Quidditch Pitch, the golden Snitch struggling to free itself from his tight grip. But even as his teammates surrounded him with cheers, Lily Potter looking as if she'd never had a prouder moment in her Quidditch career, his eyes searched the dejected faces of the Ravenclaw team.

Someone tapped on his shoulder, and he turned to find the very girl he was seeking. Her red hair was mussed up from the wind, and he had the urge to smooth a few strands down.

"Next time," Lucy Weasley proclaimed without so much as a nod or 'hello', "you'll all get your arses kicked."

Lorcan just smiled.

But she was the one smiling the next time Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had a match.

* * *

Their routine didn't change. It was a wheel of pleasantries and well wishes disguising the desire to win, which in turn, disguised the pleasure they felt (or at least, Lorcan felt) at having Lucy respond to him every time they had a Quidditch match against each other.

This was their sixth. It was nearing the end of Lorcan's fifth year and Lucy's sixth, which meant they only had two more after this one.

Lorcan adjusted his red and gold robes, passing his broom handle from one arm to the other as he and the rest of the Gryffindor team made their way to the center of the Quidditch Pitch. He craned his neck to get a look at the blue robes of the Ravenclaw team.

Lucy stood in front, a proud, bold Captain who managed to look confident even though she was considerably shorter than Malcom Thomas, the six-foot tall Gryffindor Captain. Her red hair stood out even more against her robes. She had a dazzling smile on her face.

"Captains, shake hands!" Madam Hooch barked. Even as Lucy stepped up to shake Malcom's hand, she caught Lorcan's eye and winked.

That was the first part of their routine.

The second was when they started to shoot up to the air. "Good luck," he murmured just before his name was called out by Roxanne Weasley, the commentator.

"Good luck," she said with a smirk. (The smirk was routine, too.)

Lorcan pulled his broom to a stop above the other players and watched Lucy soar up to the center of the field. Routine again, but she didn't know it.

The game began as soon as the Ravenclaws had flown in the air next to the Gryffindors. "And it's Gryffindor with the Quaffle! Thomas passing to Peterson, who passes to Garrett, who - aw, tough luck - fumbles it, so now Ravenclaw's in possession. Weasley, passing to Adams, who runs it down the field…"

Lorcan tuned the commentary out, choosing instead to scour the field for the Snitch. The third part of the routine would come either when the game ended, or when Gryffindor or Ravenclaw scored a goal.

The latter usually happened first.

"And it's 10-0 to Ravenclaw due to a nice shot by my cousin!" A cheer rose from the Ravenclaw stands, and Lorcan immediately lowered himself so that he could see Lucy's face.

She looked up at him, right on cue, and mouthed, "We're going to win." Her smile was challenging, emphasized by the striking red of her hair. That was routine.

He was just starting to rise again when he noticed that she was blushing. That, he thought with a raised eyebrow, was not routine. He cocked his head and squinted, trying to see if he was imagining the pink tint on her face. She appeared to see him staring and whipped her broomstick around. Lorcan raised an eyebrow, staring at the red curls tied into a ponytail.

Shaking his head, he rose and continued to search for the Snitch.

The game went on for twenty more minutes (it was very strange; Lucy's performance wasn't quite up to par at all), until finally he spotted the fluttering silver wings and managed to end the game by just narrowly catching the Snitch before the Ravenclaw Seeker did.

As soon as he landed on the ground, _he_ followed routine. He cheered alongside his Gryffindor teammates. He raised his fist to the air and grinned until his face felt like it was going to split. And he would have eventually stopped to shake hands with her and listen to her tell him that Ravenclaw was going to win next time, except _she_ didn't follow routine.

She stomped right up to him and tapped his shoulder in the middle of his jumping. "Lorcan!"

He jumped again, but it was because she'd startled him. "Yeah?" he shouted.

She beckoned for him to follow her and he did, walking a few yards from the rest of the team until she stopped.

Thinking she was just quickening the pace of the routine, he waited for her to tell him that Gryffindor better watch out because Ravenclaw was going to kick their sorry arses. He waited for her to cock her hip and flip her hair over her shoulder while assertively telling him to wait and see who was better next time.

She didn't, and only stared at him.

"Er," Lorcan said, beginning to realize this was, in fact, not going to adhere to the routine. "Did I do something?"

Lucy crossed her arms, tapping her foot. "Yes," she said stiffly.

Her tone reminded him of the time she'd gotten angry at him for petting her cat and getting ink marks over his fur. He cleared his throat, unsure whether to make a run for it or casually put a Shield Charm between them (sometimes Lucy got out of hand).

"Er," he said, "what did I do, again?" Out of instinct, he ran a hand through his blond hair nervously. She looked quite murderous, he thought.

She sounded quite murderous, too, when she practically yelled, "You _distracted _me, you idiot!" And Lucy did something that completely, utterly _shattered_ the routine.

She kissed him.

Lorcan was in such shock that he didn't start responding until she was pulling away, breathing heavily. She was definitely blushing now, and so was he.

She had crossed her arms and was tapping her foot, staring at him expectantly.

Lorcan opened and closed his mouth like a fish. "Er, well...That was - that wasn't part of the schedule," he blurted out stupidly, his heart pounding rather wildly in his chest. He felt weak in the knees and thought he might collapse.

Lucy, on the other hand, looked very rigid. "Neither was being distracted by your _goddamn_ perfect hair," she said accusingly.

"Sorry," said Lorcan, his mouth still parted open. He wasn't sure if he was hearing her correctly, but Lucy didn't seem to notice or want to repeat when she'd said.

Instead, she put her hands on her hips and said, "Don't think you'll be so lucky next time. Ravenclaw will beat your sorry arses."

And she had finished their routine, but started another that they would follow on until he broke it again.

* * *

"AND IT'S PUDDLEMERE UNITED VERSUS THE HOLYHEAD HARPIES! ON PUDDLEMERE, WE HAVE…"

The commentator listed names, and at Lorcan's, he shot up into the air with a "Good luck" spoken into the air. The cheering probably drowned it out, but Lucy's lips formed a smirk and she mouthed the words back.

Their routine continued. They smirked and winked at each other. They mouthed that their respective teams were going to win. They continued the same things they'd done since Hogwarts.

But their schedule wasn't going to last for long, this time. Lorcan was going to break it.

As the Harpies' Seeker, Bridget Jones, managed to snatch the Snitch from under Lorcan's nose and end the game, he thought of how ironic was going to be. She'd changed their schedule when she'd lost; now he was going to change theirs after _he_ lost.

Though he did hope he would only have to change it this once.

In the air, he met up with the rest of his team, who were all nodding at him as he flew over. None of them commented on his lousy performance. Instead, they all looked very nervous, which suddenly made Lorcan feel like he should be quite nervous as well.

"Ready, Lorc?" said his Captain, Max Reiner.

Lorcan nodded numbly, fingering the box under his robes. "As ready as I'll be," he laughed.

"Good luck, man," called a few of his teammates as the team soared towards the ground.

When Lorcan fell, he blamed his sweaty hands. They were slippery with nerves, and his grip on his broomstick was mediocre at best. He was maybe twenty feet in the air when he quite suddenly slipped off his broom and plummeted to the ground.

As he fell, he could hear her screaming his name, and he found himself smirking, thinking this was certainly a twist in their routine.

He felt a Cushioning Charm catch him just as he hit the ground. He heard his teammates' footsteps thundering towards him, but Lucy reached him before anyone else.

"Idiot!" he heard her yell as he tried to sit up. "Idiot! Stay down!" She started to swear at him as she waved her wand over his body and muttered some spells.

Quite a crowd had gathered around him by the time Lorcan could sit up.

"Idiot," Lucy repeated, glaring at him. Curls had fought their way out of her headband, and there were smudges of dirt on her face. He thought she'd never looked more beautiful.

"Kind of like the first time we met, right?" he said, laughing.

She didn't laugh. "Yeah," she retorted, "you're still an idiot."

That just made him laugh even harder. It possibly had something to do with the fact it was now or never, and he thought he might faint from his nerves.

"Yeah," he agreed, and reached into his robes and pulled out a tiny ring box. He smiled nervously and cleared his throat. "As long as I'm your idiot."

* * *

It was all over the news.

The two mishaps of the Scamander wedding.

The first: Lucy Weasley-to-be-Scamander had, while stepping onto the platform, slipped and fell. And while everyone else stared on in utter confusion, her groom had slid to the floor beside her, the two falling into hysterical laughter as the priest fruitlessly attempted to restore order.

The second: Lorcan Scamander, the newly-wed husband of Lucy, had fallen off the broomstick at the unheard-of event of the bride and groom romantically riding on a broomstick beside the evening sunset. Again, the couple heaped on the grass and laughed as if they had not had a better time in their lives.

At least, that was what _Witch Weekly_ had said.

It hadn't known that Lorcan and Lucy Scamander were laughing at the pure coincidence of the turn of events. It hadn't known that they weren't laughing because it was the best time of their lives - they were laughing because it was a _repeat_ of the best times of their lives. And they hadn't known that falling, falling from broomsticks and falling for each other, had always been routine.

But Lorcan and Lucy Scamander did.

* * *

**I know, this is probably one of the very few fics that has Lorcan as a Quidditch player, but I kind of like it like this. And it fit into the story that way.**

**Hope you liked it!**

**xoxo Summy**


End file.
